It was a dark and stormy night
by Lydia2
Summary: Frodo is alone one stormy night when a mysterious breeze chills the house


Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I can't even lay claim to Halloween candy because I'm way too old to trick or treat and mom just gives out popcorn. But that's beside the point.

This is a Halloween story of sorts, mainly by virtue of being full of suspense and general spookiness, though I won't ruin it for you. Enjoy and please, please review. 

It was a dark and stormy night, and a very cliché one at that. Frodo Baggins, in fact, realized this by virtue of having heard many such stories from his "uncle", but this did not make his situation feel any less creepy. Uncle Bilbo, who was really his second cousin, had only just left a little over a week earlier, but up to the present time, he had been too busy getting all his affairs and hole in order to register the fact that he was completely alone. 

His cousins, Merry and Pippin, had been staying with him, helping and getting in trouble, until that very morning. They were both quite a bit younger than he was but the now adult hobbit still enjoyed their antics, and they actually were very helpful. But they had returned to their respective homes and lives and he would have to get on with his own. Samwise had been over until only a few hours before, when storm clouds had begun to blow up. 

It was only about seven-thirty in the evening now, but pitch-black outside, but for the frequent lightning. Frodo sat now in his warm kitchen, staring mesmerized into the fire as he waited for his tea water to boil. 

A draft of cold air blew past him, and he shivered. Outside, he heard a wild animal yowl, causing him to flinch. As the cold breeze continued, he realized with a thrill of terror that it was coming from the direction of the cellar, which had its own door to the outside for ease of bringing in vegetables from the garden. 

As this knowledge registered, he wished Bilbo were there. For a moment, he considered using the Ring, but reluctantly discarded the idea. The wizard had warned him not to, and Gandalf always had good advice. Instead, the hobbit slowly got to his feet and nervously went to get his cloak.

Then he picked up a lantern and lit it from a candle. With a start, he realized that there were only two still lit of the ten or so that he had had lit all around the room. One more guttered out as he watched, leaving him with the dim light of the fire, the muted light of his lantern, and one flickering candle. This candle he set down, and the current of air flowing through the room almost immediately quenched it. He stared in shock for a moment but finally forced himself to pick up his feet and walk toward the back of Bag End where the cellar was located.

The cellar was different from the rest of the snug hole. Unlike the other rooms, its walls and ceilings were only lined with plain board without insulation, and the floor had carefully fitted flagstones. 

The result was a room that was fairly cold all year round. He had never entirely enjoyed going into the room, despite its shelves lined with food. He had heard all too many scary stories from Bilbo, and so never went in there after dark if he had his preference.

Now, though, he was the only one, and the owner at that, so it was his sole responsibility to discover how the locked room had come to be opened since there were no windows and the door fitted firmly into to opening to prevent entrance breezes or bugs. The thunder crashed outside, and he thought he heard a noise coming from somewhere in front of him. The hallway seemed twice as long as usual and he wished he could just run to his room. But that was no solution, and he knew it.

At long last, he neared to doorway he sought, and for a moment, he caught as glimmer of light moving. Forcing himself to keep moving, he went forward to the inside door of the cellar. Pulling himself together as best he could, he turned the knob and pushed inward. It didn't creak at all as he opened the door just enough for his head. He leaned in and asked in a quavering voice, "W-who's t-there?"

There was a gasp and the light went out. Taking courage, Frodo pushed the door the rest of the way open and held up the lantern.

The end.

Okay so that wasn't the end, I just did that for the fun of it. Anyway, here goes.

A shadowy form picked itself up off the floor with a grunt. "Good evening, Mr. Frodo." Samwise picked up the lantern he had dropped. "Dad sent me over to check and be sure there was nothing on the floor here that could get spoiled, just in case water leaked in. I knocked on the front door but you didn't answer so I figured you were as asleep and used Dad's key to get in this door."

Frodo chuckled shakily and his legs threatened to collapse as he was flooded with relief. "Come on in here, Sam, and get a cup of tea. And make sure that door is shut tightly. I've felt a mighty draft." He held up his lantern higher so Sam could see what he was doing. The door was slightly ajar, and Frodo had to help push it closed against the wind.

As they walked together back to the kitchen, he told Sam the stories his mind had invented as to why there was such a wind blowing through the house. And the friends enjoyed a pot of tea and scary stories, which were somehow not so scary with two hobbits in candle and firelight.

Finis (for real this time)

I came up with this story idea because of two separate articles I read in a magazine and newspaper. The articles were lists of things typical of horror stories. I incorporated two of the ideas into this story, the cat that always makes a horrible noise right before the enemy attacks, and the hero checking the basement for intruders when the electricity is out. I hope you enjoyed. Please, give me feed back.


End file.
